Our Segregated Table

Trigger warnings: fat phobia, bullying

 Our Segregated Table

By Zoey F.

We had been best friends for five years. We were so close that even our parents were good friends, and because of that our sleepovers seemed to be endless. We always hung out during and after school- never void of each other’s company. We were both loners; both social outcasts as we shared the burden of being labeled “ the ugly chubby girls” within our school. Perhaps if we were funnier, perhaps if we were more outgoing and cool, we could’ve compensated for our unattractive appearances like the other boys and girls learned to do. However, Alana and I weren’t endowed with such redeeming qualities and further remained in our introverted corners. We met in the 5th grade through our passion for drawing and art, and became inseparable ever since.

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At first, I didn’t mind the slights. The derisive chorterling, the glances of assured superiority, hurtful comments and the blatant social ostracization. Each time they would occur, I would look to Alana for comfort, as she would often brave a small, thin-lipped grin at me that was accompanied with a subtle wink and then whisper: “ Don’t pay attention to ‘em.” in her slightly raspy yet oddly sweet voice. Alana was never one to give in to fear and judgement, so it was easy for me to feel secure when she was around; the times when I was alone, however, were when self-doubt began to creep within me. 

In the late hours of the night, melancholy would instantly overtake me. I would try as hard as I could to quiet my aggressive sobbing and sniffling with pillows thick enough to withhold my sorrow and pity. I hated myself wholeheartedly, and would curse my body for its shortcomings- its gelatinous rolls, oily skin, and unimpressive stature. These sulking sessions happened so routinely that it’d give me something to look forward to during the week. And everyday, Alana would pester me with questions about my well-being and would constantly tell me that she would always be there to help me, no matter the situation. And everyday, I would reply with lies of self-assurance that were as bitter and crusty as black licorice.

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Although Alana could somewhat detect my internal anguish, she couldn't possibly have detected the abysmal depths of spite and envy that writhed within me. The times when Alana’s cool and collective behavior would have originally distracted me from our lonely, segregated table, were times I instead observed the cool and “popular” people's table and munched on my PB&J sandwich with piercing green eyes. 

The times when we would normally stroll down the hallways and chatter excitedly about our new favorite WebToons®️ series, were replaced with me turning a deaf ear to Alana whilst listening to the popular girls’ gossip. Whether I knew it consciously or not, I had ingrained within myself that my personal goal was to be part of the popular girls’ group. I figured that being myself alone wasn’t enough to be well-liked, afterall, it was what seemed to perpetuate my daily suffering and nightly torment. So, slowly but surely, I greatly adjusted my personality.

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Firstly, I ditched my habit of drawing cartoon characters in return for perfecting my makeup skills. I painstakingly watched numerous YouTube makeup tutorials and followed them to the T in hopes to finally achieve a sense of beauty. It took countless failures and frustrations, but I had finally begun to master the skill well into my ninth grade year of highschool. It definitely helped to alleviate the bullying that I had received, as it drew more attention to my face rather than my body. Although Alana didn’t personally enjoy wearing makeup ( as she thought it was much too laborious of a task to do) she thought it looked nice on me and didn’t discourage me from wearing it. She did, however, become worried when I began to wear it everywhere I went. Whether we were going to the grocery store, the park, or simply walking our dogs, I had to have a full face of makeup on. It became a necessity, as I feared the judgement of possible onlookers who aimed to insult me. Each time she’d voice her concerns about it, I’d simply dispel them and change the topic. 

Secondly, I became more outgoing.

I engaged more with the people around me to gain a larger reputation. I used to be painfully shy and sort of fade into the shadows so that I could not draw any attention to myself. I hated being caught on the spot, so when teachers would call on me to answer a question in class I would literally have to choke back tears; which much to my chagrin, only made me a target for more bullying. So I began to act out. In class, when teachers called on me I emulated the awful behavior of my classmates: I was loud and disrespectful. I would make smart remarks and retorts to the teacher whenever I could so that my classmates would laugh with me instead of at me from then on. It cost me the favorability of my teachers and my parents’ pride, but in return I gained a lot of friends. A really cute and popular boy I had a crush on ( his name was Donovan), even started to finally show me attention. One day, while we were talking at my locker, he ruffled the curls on my head and said: “ You know, you kinda cute already but if you were skinnier, you’d be even cuter.” That comment led me to embark on my last greatest change.

Finally, I lost a lot of weight.

During the summer of my freshman year, Alana and I had made a deal with each other to begin eating healthier and start going to the gym so that we could better take care of our bodies. For a couple of weeks, it was a lot of fun. We would plan our nutritious meals with each other and create workout routines that was conducive for the both of us. During this time, I was also hanging out with Donovan and his two friends who were popular girls; Rory and Leah. Rory and Leah were super gorgeous, very skinny and fashionable. Everytime Donovan would invite me to hangout with them, it was clear that they weren’t exactly eager to meet me. It was evident in their scowls and upturned, perfect little noses that they had already in their minds categorized me as inferior because of my looks. They’d often make snide comments about my weight, and were comically shocked to know that I even worked out. As you could imagine, this got under my skin. I was so thirsty for their approval, that I searched tirelessly for quicker ways to lose weight. It didn’t matter to me if the methods were healthy or not. I had overheard Leah say one time in a conversation that the only way she stayed slim was by eating very small meals- so I decided to go with that method for weight loss. It was a horrible couple of months that I endured in order to get my weight down to 135. My stomach would painfully constrict and wail for more to eat throughout the day, and at times I would give in to its implore and stuff my face grotesquely with food. It was a vicious cycle of meager eating and over-indulgence but I managed to balance between them by reminding myself of the weight I used to be, and how much I yearned to abstain from reaching that weight again. Both my parents and Alana expressed their concerns about the rapid pace at which I was losing weight, which in return caused me to distance myself from them. I was increasingly irritable during this time so I didn’t even attempt to be polite in my dismissal to their counsel. The phrase: “leave me alone!” seemed to frequent my vocabulary at this time and any feeling of guilt or regret was filtered out with self-righteous indignation. They only wish to stifle my growth, I thought bitterly to myself. Afterall, I had so many people in my corner. People that never spoke to me before began to flock towards me; celebrating me for my good-looks and showering me with compliments. No one sought to bully me, and I was finally beginning to feel accepted. When Donovan invited me around other popular kids he didn’t awkwardly distance himself from me anymore, but draped his arm across my shoulders with pride. Sitting with Alana at our segregated table didn’t seem to satisfy me anymore; instead it made me grow restless. The two new worlds I was now a part of were much too far from one another to have dual citizenship in both- so I waited patiently for the final opportunity to leave the ‘old’ and reside in the ‘new’. Little did I know that that time would come sooner than I expected.

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It never ceases to amaze me to think that the one thing that I had been longing to be a part of for 5 years, was just one text away.

“ Sit with me today?” was the text from Donovan I had received at the beginning of my Junior year, that opened the gateway to total immersion into the popular group. There were no words to describe how overjoyed I was. That fateful day, during lunch, I followed Donovan and Leah to my new lunch table. The grey, rugged table that I had yearned to sit at might as well have been glistening; just positively radiating with the golden glow of social gratification. I clutched my plastic milk bottle, slightly trembling with glee. Yes! All that I had been working for is finally paying off, I thought, with a wide grin stretching across my blushed cheeks. A wave of dizziness inundated me, causing me to almost lose my balance as I walked over to the table. This happened often, so I lumbered on, using only the strength of my eagerness to keep me standing. I was just about to rest the milk bottle onto the table when suddenly, I heard an ear-splitting shrill blurted behind me. 

“ Look what you did to my shirt!!!” Unfortunately, that horrible scream came from Rory. She stood in the middle of the cafeteria, completely stiff with vile vindication and boiling anger, whilst grasping her cream-colored blouse. To my surprise, I saw the supposed perpetrator was made out to be my best friend, Alana. Though short and stocky in stature, the stretch of her courage made her seem to loom over Rory.

It appeared as if Alana had purposely smashed her lunch tray onto Rory’s shirt, causing there to be a slosh of phlegm- colored mac and cheese with a touch of gravy ( one of Alana’s favorite food combinations) to be plastered onto it. 

“ Um, you bumped into me. That means, you need to watch where you’re going.” Alana’s voice was firm and earnest.

It was obvious to everyone that there couldn’t possibly be any blame on Alana’s part, considering how problematic Rory was. Yet everyone eagerly waited with burning anticipation as to how Rory would react. One thing I knew about Rory was that she loved being made a spectacle- and she never failed in giving a show. Rory took another step closer to Alana’s face.

“ You better say you’re sorry, you stupid hippo.” Rory hissed through the crack of her bared front teeth. The cafeteria only further bolstered Rory’s ego through their excited murmurings amongst each other. I could tell she was just lapping it up.

Despite this scare tactic, Alana bawled her stubby fingers into a fist and stepped closer to Rory’s face. 

“ No.”  

Rory’s face twisted in astonishment. I suppose it hadn’t occurred to her that sheer intimidation wouldn’t ward off a strong person like Alana, as she herself was daunting. Rory had underestimated her, and was more than taken aback by the response. Then, she looked at me- her hazel eyes beckoned me to come to her assistance.

“ Girl, come get your friend.” Rory sneered, her last attempt to regain her superiority. 

I knew that this was a test. A horrible, manipulative hazing that I was intrinsically mandated to do. If I was going to be a part of them, I was going to have to detach from anything that would restrict me from doing so. I had already ridden myself from my burdening weight, embarrassingly niche interests, and unappealing looks. Now I had to cut myself from the last string of my past- Alana. Milk bottle in hand, the sound of my thunderous heartbeat replaced the echoing slap of my rhinestone sandals against the cafeteria floor. My throat felt dry and itchy as I searched for words to spill from it.

I looked into the eyes of Alana. They were so fiery and bold, but the flames seemed to extinguish once I came into view. In her eyes, I saw the cherished memories we shared together; times of childhood innocence and naivete. The times when joy was abundant, and melancholy didn’t dare to prevail against it. I saw the self-assured twinkle in her eye that I had admired so deeply, and began to feel a small grin inch across my face at its recognition. Suddenly, I heard that dreadful sound of snickering that always seemed to haunt me, emit from Rory. Alongside of her, was that of Donovan and Leah who were laughing heartily at me and Alana. Oh no, this situation felt all too familiar. The sympathy and affinity that I had felt toward Alana had quickly dwindled into rage and insecurity. When I saw Alana I saw the horrible past that I had worked years to run away from. I saw the me that was disgraced and disparaged. I saw the me that I hated.

“ That is NOT my friend.” I spat those words out as if they were liquidated with poison. Then, in the spur of the moment, I untwisted the top of my milk bottle and launched it into Alana’s face. Immediately afterwards, I marched heatedly out the cafeteria with Rory and Leah to the girl’s bathroom.

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To this day, I cannot possibly express the amount of remorse, the amount of regret, the amount of utter shame I felt for doing that to Alana. We never talked again after that incident. We don’t hangout anymore, we don’t have sleepovers anymore, and her parents don’t visit us anymore. Yes, I had succeeded in my goal for social acceptance. I was a victor, but at such an abundance of costs. My mental health, my physical health, my self-identity, and my only true friendship. I had single-handedly compromised such integral aspects of my individuality just for a glimpse of popularity. For what? To be surrounded by wolves in sheep’s clothing? To constantly feel like I have to please and oblige all those around me? You know, it's funny. Everyday, I pause and revisit the lunch table that Alana and I used to sit in. At each visit, a burning realization comes to mind: our segregated table was much closer than I had originally thought.